


Leopard Queen

by HigherMagic



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werecat, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's finally in heat, and it's a free-for-all on who claims him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leopard Queen

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Kocia królowa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438117) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)



> I would rather not talk about how much research I had to do to make this accurate. Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

As one, every member of the pride's heads snap up, nostrils flaring as they all take a deep breath, in unison. For a brief moment, in the clearing, everything is very still, and then it erupts in a flurry of activity.

"Jensen," one of them whispers, baring his teeth, eyes flashing in readiness.

"Fuckin' finally," another says.

There are laughs scattered around the group, and then they are all shifting forms and running. Lions, most of them, though there's the occasional panther and tiger in there too – taken in from other prides, other wandering cats.

Jensen is standing, as a human, in the middle of another clearing a few miles from where the pride is usually gathered. The sun rains down on him; he's sitting in the middle of a patch of sunlight, his skin almost glowing in the warm golden light. A smirk curves his lush mouth, humor and mischief sparking in his dark green eyes.

There's a fine sheen of sweat already forming in the dip of his throat and across his broad shoulders. Lust permeates the air around him, his nostrils flared as he takes in the scent of so many toms, eager and ready to mate with him. His thighs are slick with his heat, his pupils blown.

One of them steps forward – he's huge, a real beast of a cat, and Jensen's eyes flash to him, the Queen already lowering himself slightly to the ground. Whether he is going to fight or submit remains to be seen, but the tom has competition – another snarls at him, launching forward, and the two go rolling, competing for the right to mate with Jensen.

The Queen straightens a little, his smile widening, eyes flashing darkly in pleasure as he watches the two toms fight. The scent of lust is heady and thick, like breathing through moss and cotton, and the cats are panting, eager to see who wins the fight; which tom will be the victor to either fight again, or take Jensen.

Another fight breaks out to the right – one of the toms had tried to use Jensen's distraction to sneak up on him, to bite his neck and make him submit before the Queen could fight back, but another potential suitor had seen and attacked. Jensen snarls, nose wrinkling, upper lip curling back when he sees that the sneaky one had been a tiger; a different breed than what he wants, and he tosses his head with an arrogant huff, stepping away from the two rolling toms.

A loud roar cuts through the fighting, and Jensen lifts his head, eyes widening and brightening in excitement as his nostrils flare again, trying to get the new scent. The newcomer's loud growl is full of power; Jensen can feel it deep in his belly, burning hot from lust and the fires of his heat, and he shivers, fingers clenching by his sides, toes curling and digging into the soft, mossy ground beneath his feet.

The sea of were-cats parts, suddenly, and Jensen turns to look at the newcomer. He's black and wiry – a jaguar, not as large as the lions surrounding him, but his golden eyes flash with power, his teeth bared and jaw dripping with saliva. His paws dig shallow furrows in the ground as he moves. Power is evident in every line of him; every sleek curve in the arch of his spine and the muscles in his legs.

Jensen's eyes widen, and he takes a step back. "Alpha," he whispers, falling to his knees as the other were-cat approaches him. Misha's growling turns into another sound; something softer. Not quite a purr, but almost. Then, Jensen isn't a man anymore – he is in his cat form; a beautiful, sleek leopard, with dark grey markings and black muzzle and feet. He is smaller than Misha in this form, his fur thick from winter still, his limbs more dainty and less powerful.

Misha stands tall, flicking his tail from side to side lazily, and Jensen mewls, turning around and rolling onto his back to bare his belly to the Alpha's gaze. His fur is soft and an off-white on his belly, and Jensen stretches out his forelegs, curling up his hindlegs to bare what lies under his tail, his tail curled off to one side for Misha.

The Alpha rumbles and Jensen rolls onto his feet again, gently pressing with his tail at Misha's jaw, the fur thick with the smell of his pheromones, trying to entice Misha into mating with him. The sounds Jensen is making are nothing short of needy and desperate, his body begging to be taken by the Alpha, to be bred and torn up on the inside so that he will bear the Alpha's cubs.

He butts Misha's shoulder with his head, letting the Alpha smell him, and lets out a pleased purr when Misha rumbles again, his nostrils flaring, whiskers twitching slightly. He knows Misha is not unaffected by him, and it is that thought that makes Jensen flatten himself in front of the virile tom, his hindquarters up in the air and tail moved to one side.

Misha rumbles softly again, ears flickering forward, and looks back at the other members of the pride. He bares his teeth, flattening his ears to his skull, and roars at them to leave, and without making sure they do – he knows his orders will be obeyed – he turns back to the fertile Queen, lowering his muzzle to sniff at Jensen's exposed, wet entrance. He licks gently at Jensen, tasting his fertility, able to tell that Jensen is very much in heat and ready to mate, and the Queen trembles slightly, mewling low in his throat.

Misha licks again, and then withdraws, leaving Jensen to yowl in outrage, but before the Queen can turn and strike at him, Misha snarls and throws himself over the smaller creature, his teeth sinking into the scruff of Jensen's neck. Immediately, the claws that had been aimed for Misha's flanks retract, and Jensen goes completely limp underneath him, making Misha growl in approval as he mounts the Queen. He grips Jensen's flanks in his forelegs, claws digging in slightly, and positions himself, thrusting in when he feels the wet, welcoming heat of Jensen's opening against his cock.

It doesn't take long for the Alpha to come, in this form – in seconds he is growling, his teeth sinking in further into Jensen's vulnerable neck, until he feels the hot, spicy taste of his blood in his mouth, and empties himself into the eager Queen. Jensen yowls loudly when he tries to pull out, the barbs scraping along his inner walls, ripping them open to induce ovulation so that Jensen might fall pregnant.

The Queen snarls angrily, pain stabbing through the pleasured haze of heat, and Jensen writhes, trying to find an angle to strike Misha at with his claws.

The Alpha growls and presses down more harshly onto the smaller cat. _"Calm yourself, Queen,"_ he growls, thrusting back inside of Jensen so that there isn't any more tug from his barbs. _"Change_."

Jensen obeys, because Misha is Alpha and there is no choice in the matter, and the jaguar changes shape as well, until it is two men in the clearing instead of the cats. Jensen sighs in relief at the removal of Misha's flaccid cock, stained red with blood but no longer hurting him, and the Queen rolls onto his back, displaying his belly again – soon, he will want Misha once more, as cats, and want to mate again to try and receive more of Misha's seed, but for now his instinct is to bare his throat to the Alpha, to submit to Misha's desires as a subservient cat.

Misha smiles, his eyes – blue in his human form – flashing in pleasure at Jensen's display, and he leans down, mouthing at the Queen's strong jaw, the smooth line of his throat, and he licks along the flexing tendon, biting down just slightly. The scent of blood and heat still lingers strongly in the air, running down Misha's spine and settling in his gut like a warm stone.

"No others," Misha whispers, his hand running down Jensen's sweaty chest until he finds the younger man's straining cock, and wraps his dry palm around it, making Jensen arch up and whine desperately, nails scrabbling at Misha's back, but doing no damage. "No other male is to fuck you, do you understand me?" His other hand moves to Jensen's stomach. "This is mine," Misha growls, and then squeezes Jensen's cock, jerking up harshly. "This is mine."

"Un-Understood, Alpha," Jensen whispers, green eyes hazy from want and pleasure, and he bites his lower lip, hissing and arching desperately into Misha's pleasurable touch. "Alpha, please -."

"Now," Misha whispers, leaning down to bite into Jensen's lush, innocent mouth, and the leopard shivers, his body going taught and tense as he locks up, and comes over Misha's hand. His thighs are slick with his heat and he can feel the Alpha's come and his blood leaking out of him, and he feels completely owned – especially with the added order that Jensen is not to be touched by anyone else. It's an odd request, considering they're _cats_ , but if it will keep the Alpha satisfied, then Jensen won't argue.

Misha lays down beside him, petting a hand through Jensen's soft, sweaty brown hair, lit up like gold in the sunlight, and Jensen smiles, curling up close to the Alpha and letting himself drift off, until the next stab of heat wakes him and the need to fuck overwhelms everything else. Misha is purring, low in his chest, and Jensen can't help but join him in higher harmony, letting the steady thud of his mate's heartbeat and the warm sun lull him to sleep.


End file.
